The Rose White Knight of a Fragile Amethyst Rose o
by SporkGoddess
Summary: An independent, improper, and very hot Gundam Fighter is forced to be the mechanic of the patriarchal and oh-so-proper George de Sand! Crazy situations, bad fangirl foreign language, and shameless breaking of the 4th wall ensue! BUT IT'S NOT A MARY SUE
1. Default Chapter

Note: This fanfic will contain (joking?) French-bashing and gratuitous swearing. If you are offended by either of these things, then I seriously pity you.

Everything mentioned in here is inspired by really bad George/Mary Sues that we are all exposed to everyday. If you accuse me of OOCness and portraying George horribly... well, nice to meet you, Captain Obvious.

The Rose White Knight of a Fragile Amethyst Rose of Hope and Sorrow

By the Beautiful Queen Sorceress Priestess of Sparkles and Fairy Dust, Josephina-cha

Whoopsie! I mean,

By SporkGoddess.

THIS IS NOT A MARY SUE DAMNIT. SHE IS JUST LIKE ME IN EVERY WAY SHAPE AND FORM

I feel old, y'know? Like, I certainly don't look it, what with my shimmery amethyst hair and skin as fair as a snow white omi or whatever the heck they call the sashes on those Japanese robes, but I _feel_ old. At the tender age of 23 I have been through so much, and all I want to do is sit at home with a good soap opera and mint chocolate chip cookie dough. Does that stuff even exist? If not, it should.

But, really, having my ex-husband notify me and say that some prissy French nancyboy needs a mechanic is so insulting. Especially considering that I'm the one who does the friggin' fighting, not some French pansy! Do the French even know how to fight? I MEAN COME ON! It's Neo-FRANCE! I could be at home putting together a kittens puzzle or… watching a rerun of MASH: The Next Generation. I dunno. But anything would be better than catering to the whims of some Parisian wuss!

But, anyway, these thoughts were going through my mind as I stared at my plane ticket. It was a good thing that the Gundam Fight was still two years away; I'm a fighter for Neo-Uzbekistan. The people of the once-proud nation would be really pissed if I skipped out on them, which I was beginning to think I had, not of my own will of course. Which leads to another question, why the hell does he need a mechanic in the off season? And what becomes of my own Gundam? Sheesh, talk about selfish!

So, yeah, there I was on the plane as we already established… thinking this while trying to read a trashy romance novel that I'd bought at the airport from a cultist in exchange for my soul. It really sucked, too, there must be an another level in Hell for people who read this crap. And I guess that I was doomed to rot there. Ah well, at least I'm hot.

Blah, now where was I? Yeah, on the plane, thinking these thoughts and reading about Francine di Courrier being swept into the muscular and steamy embrace of the man who was trying to kill her--fucking brilliant logic right there—when the flight attendant poked me. I punched her, and things got a little hazy after that; all I can remember is that the next morning my ex-husband arrived to pay my bail from the airport security center or whatever the hell you call it… I refuse to give it the dignified name of a prison; it was mostly some butch guy named Buster leering at me. Men. They all want me. But I guess, who can blame them?

My ex-husband, named Raymond Bishop, wasn't too happy with me.

"You may be more beautiful than a sea of moons and stars, Josephina-chan, but you have the spirit of a haunted arena of flying hay bales."

He always was poetic.

"So Ray-san, how's it going?" I asked cheerfully once we were in his car. Well, not _his_ car, it was actually a limo that had been sanctioned for our use. Pretty sweet dealio.

"Fine, fine."

I shook my head. Raymond was old enough to be my grandfather, but I had been betrothed to him at one point and even married to him, until I realized that all of my life would be shackled to a wrinkled old man who was a butler. A _butler_! You'd think my parents could have at least arranged my marriage to a prince or a knight or a manager at Burger King. It really showed how much they thought of me. A butler! Can you believe that?

"What are you thinking about, Josephina-san?" He asked.

"Wouldn't you like to know?" I wasn't too fond of Raymond, and whenever I don't like someone I do not hide that fact. Which is probably why that hadn't been my first time in an airport "jail."

"You're still mad at me." He said. "But I'm doing you a favor. No one even knows where Neo-Uzbekistan is!"

"Plenty of people do! They used to be a glorious nation before…"

"Where is Neo-Uzbekistan?"

I froze. "Um, the question should be where _isn't_ it?"

"Josephina-chan… stop evading the question."

I shrugged. "I was just trying to throw you off, y'know? Well, it's… um… in Euro… Asia… Eurasia… somewhere… by… the… ocean?"

"Which ocean?"

"Oh, they're all so beautiful does it really matter?"

He smirked. "I knew it."

"Okay, so I don't know where the one on earth is! I know where the colony is!"

"Yes, it is in space, but which country is it near?"

"I'm going to stop speaking to you now."

"Glad to hear it." How the hell had this man become a butler? Aren't butlers supposed to be polite and congenial?

The car eventually stopped and Raymond looked over at me.

"We're here."

I put a hand to my ear. "What? Did someone just say something?"

He rolled his eyes. "Fine, if you want to act like a little girl then go for it. I'll just tell Master George-sama that his new mechanic is busy playing the silence game in the back of the limo by herself."

I slouched. "See if I care what some girl thinks of me."

"Master George-sama is male."

"If you say so."

He sighed and opened the door. "Well, at some point the Princess will wish to use the limo, but until then you're welcome to sulk in there." He got out and walked away.

"Oh fine, I'm coming." I sighed as I got out of the car. "Hey, wait up!"

I followed Raymond out of the limo and through these pearly gates. Wait, isn't that often used to describe heaven? Bad choice then, because this place to me was hell. You ought to have seen it! Green grass, trees, flowers… So picturesque I could just imagine painters tripping over each other to capture it on canvas. What's wrong with that, you may ask ? Well… EVERYTHING. I could tell it would crush my independent spirit like Frollo had crushed those ants in that Disney movie _The Hunchback of Notre Dame_… oops, I'm breaking the fourth wall, aren't I? Well, no matter, it won't be the last time!

Anyway, Ray-Ray's standing there talking to some chick with orange hair. Then it occurs to me that that chick has a pretty deep voice… oh God, I'd hoped what I'd heard about Frenchmen in movies and books and anti-Neo France propaganda were all just horrible lies, but NO! They actually do have long hair and eyes that are so pretty plastic surgeons all over the galaxy probably have them on file! Well, this one did anyway.

So the androgynous man turns to me and says "Bonjour gozaimasu, Mademoiselle-san!"

"Hello," I said politely.

He gasped. "Such impoliteness! You forgot to say "Sir!" She won't get along here in Neo France, Monsieur Raymond-sensei."

"Please, Master George-sama-kun, just give her dix chances." Actually, he meant one chance, but the author of this can't spell the word for that in French and is far too lazy to look it up. Un, maybe? Oh well.

"It's fine, if he doesn't want me here it's his own problem," I said, turning to leave. But "Pat" stopped me, laying a too-dainty-for-my-comfort hand upon my shoulder.

"Non, mademoiselle! If you leave, you will not have a chance to enrage me with your idea of modern women independence and sexually suggestive dancing to horrible pop music, nor will we ever fall in love against all odds!"

"Damn shame that would be."

He gasped. "Watch your French! Er… wait…"

While Mr./Miss Frog eater thought about the conundrum of this popular phrase, I wondered if escape was possible. Then I say 'Mond glaring at me and knew that it would not be.

Goddamnit.

Author's Note: OMG ISN'T THIS THE BESTEST STORY EVER? IT IS SO ROMANTIC! GEORGEY-KUN-SAMA IS SO KAWAII =.= AISHITERU GEORGE-SENSEI AISHITERU

Wai wai wai! Please review even though this story REALLY REALLY SUCKS!

Or else I will sic chibi neko George on you! rowr! ;;

FrooFroo the Muse: URUSEI JOSEPHINA CHAN

Me: OH SHUT UP FROOFROO

FrooFroo: You shut up, nan desu ka!

Me: Omae o korosu 

FrooFroo: omg heero-san

STAY TUNED FOR MORE LOLOLOLOLOL

(Real Author's Note time)

_I began to write this when George/Mary Sue fanfics were at their prime. They've died down now, really, but a few people urged me to post this so here it is. Dunno when I'll continue. I kind of have to be in a certain mood to write it._

_Sorry if it's cruel. But hey, you should all know that's how I am by now._

_Oh, and my name isn't really Josephina._


	2. Of Love and War Only Without the War

_Note: This fanfic will contain (joking?) French-bashing, Mary Sue-bashing, and gratuitous swearing. If you are offended by either of these things, then I seriously pity you. _

The Rose White Knight of a Fragile Amethyst Rose of Hope and Sorrow

Chapter 2: Of Love and War… Only Without the War

By the Beautiful Sorceress Priestess of Sparkles, Josephin….

I mean, SporkGoddess

As much as I hated to admit it, Paris was one goddamn beautiful son of a bitch. Too bad Frenchie was with me. I'd been there for a week and had seen nothing, so I'd bitched and he'd given me a day off. He'd insisted on showing me around, and as I didn't speak one word of French I had no choice but to stick by him. The rich snob even insisted on bringing his butler with. Can you believe that? So, I was stuck between a prissy girlyman and my ex-husband.

"It's pointless to use the subway," Pierre or whatever his name was told me. So we were stuck walking around the city. I noticed many women walking past; wearing pointed high-heeled shoes and flowing skirts. I wondered exactly how many nerves they have left in their feet, because my own shoes were killing me.

Since I was in the city of fashion, I had selected my outfit carefully. A short leather skirt, a halter top, and these really killer leather boots. I looked hot, I must say. (A/N: I'M HOT LOL) But you should have seen the stores! A shopper's paradise… I looked starry-eyed at the window displays, but then Jean or whatever gave me a stern look and said that I wasn't allowed to shop today. Kesama!

Instead we went sight-seeing. Notre Dame, L'Arc de Triumph, the Louvre. The first was boring to me since it was very dark inside, and so many goddamn pigeons outside. The second was boring, too. The Louvre was huge; they had to have holes in it for the streets to go through, it was so big. The gardens outside were beautiful. But inside it was somehow even more boring than the first two combined. Jacque showed me all around and raved and ranted about how beautiful the art was, when to me it was all the same. They wouldn't even let us stand and look at the Mona Lisa, which I must say had a line that was longer than my legs (A/N: THOSE FRENCH JERKS). People kept taking pictures, but the official just said "Stop taking pictures!" He didn't do anything about it though. I mean, he is French.

Next we went to the Carrousel du Louvre (A/N: I'VE BEEN THERE =.=). It's this big shopping center underneath the museum. Underneath it, yes! Only the French! Oh shonen, you should have seen the stores. I wanted so badly to just kill Pepe and run into that Sephora perfume store, but no luck. He dragged us right to the food court, where he said we were going to meet a "friend of his." He told me and Raymond-sensei to go get food and he'd find us a table.

There wasn't a lot to choose from if you're a person who hates crepes, so I went to a stand that sold subway sandwiches. It took me about twenty minutes to order, since my French is absolutely appalling. I had to really point at stuff. Then there was the matter of sorting out the money. Ugh ugh ugh. And the worst part about soda is there is so many names for it. I finally learned that "la Coca Cola" works the best. Then, armed with my tray and soda that was regrettably not diet since I know not the word, I found Armand.

He was sitting at the table with this hot blonde number who was giggling at him like he was Santa Claus and she a little girl who badly wanted presents. She was eating, I noticed with distaste, a crepe. It figures. She was dressed like any fashionable French woman, in a skirt, top, and slim-fitting leather jacket with a scarf that brought out her eyes. She looked like a complete and utter bitch. (A/N: OMG SO TRUE)

"Bonjour!" She smiled at me. "'ow are 'oo enjoying ze city?" Okay, if you think that was annoying, imagine an even more grating French accent. Gahhh.

"What's it to you," I grumbled, enunciating my words so she could hear what it was like to speak NORMALLY.

"Je ma'appel Maria Louise-san! I am very pleazed to meet 'oo."

"Yeah, whatever." I mumbled, taking a bite of my sandwich. Bitch.

"'as George-sama 'ere shown you ze Eiffel Towair yet?"

OH GOD MAKE IT STOP.

"No," I shot Frenchie a scathing look, which he ignored.

"Oooh, you must go sometime! Eet ees tres bien! Very lovely, non, George-san?"

"Oui." He nods.

"Zen you 'ave to take 'er sometime! She must see eet!"

I could tell she sensed me as a rival. She didn't want me to spend ANY TIME with her PRECIOUS George. Whore.

"I would LOVE that," I said sweetly just to piss her off.

She smiled happily. "Good, zen eet ees settled. 'ave you seen La Academie Nationale de Musique?"

"The what in the what now?" I don't speak French, SLUT!

"Ze opera 'ouse!"

"There's an opera house?" BORING. How can they LIKE that crap? (A/N: LOL SHE'S RIGHT OPERA SUCKS)

"Oh, oui! Zey only pairform ballet zere now, sad non?"

Tragic.

"We could go zee one, per'aps? I would zo like for us to be friends!"

Oh, yeah right, snob. I nearly convulsed at the very idea. Ballet is bad enough, but to see one with HER adds insult to injury. I'm sure she isn't expecting me to say yes, so I said "Sure' just to disarm her. But she masked her surprise and turned to Claude.

"Would 'oo like to come 'oo, George-kun? I know 'oo love ze ballet."

He smiled gallantly at her. "I would be honored, Maria Louise-sama."

"Fantasique! 'ave you a dress to wear, mademoiselle?"

OH GREAT, now she assumes I'm too poor and lowly to own a decent dress! I'm about to turn to her and say yes, but she continues:

"Eef 'oo want, I could take 'oo shopping for one!"

JACKPOT.

"Oh, sure. Renauld here won't take me shopping." I jerk a finger at Frenchie.

She gasped. "George-senpai! I cannot believe 'oo! To be in Paris but to be unable to shop! Eet ees terrible! We shall go tomorrow, non? And per'aps 'oo can get an outfit for ze Eiffel Tower, eet ees so much fun to dress up when 'oo go."

"Sure, whatever."

"She can 'ave ze day off zen, right Monsieur George-san?"

He sighed. "I suppose so. For you, Princess." He smiled.

I nearly gagged at the control she has over him. What a sick manipulative bitch! (A/N: OMFG I HATE HER)

Did you know the French have pay toilets right out on the street, like a goddamn pay phone? I didn't either until I saw one, and I was much happier without that knowledge I must say. Maria or whatever must have been used to that though. We could have taken the limo, she said, but Paris was so much more fun to experience on foot. In other words, I wasn't good enough for her limo. Bitch. Or as the French say… um… la… bitch. (A/N: OMG ISN'T MY FRENCH GREAT?)

We went to stores like Chanel and stuff and Maria went nuts. She bought left and right, stuff for me, stuff for her, stuff for her cat, stuff for her servants, you name it. She kept pointing out dresses that she thought would look good on me, but I didn't like any of them. Finally she gave up, probably because she thought I wasn't worth her time, and told me that I should pick out what I wanted.

"Ze 1900's styles are een. Zey are beautiful, non?" Maria was trying on a dress that looked beautiful on her, but would have looked SO much better on me (A/N: CAUSE I'M HOT LIKE THAT)

There wasn't anything remotely sexy in that whole place, and anything that isn't sexy isn't my style. So I decided to just wear something of my own. The whore did, however, buy me lots of expensive jewelry.

That night Maurice took me to the Eiffel Tower. I was wearing tight leather pants and a tube top, with hot red lipstick and my hair curled. Frenchie was in a collared shirt and a nice pair of pants. He did look pretty good, I will grudgingly admit.

I'm afraid of heights, so I kind of clung to Samuel on the elevator up. He sang softly to me in French, which surprised me and kind of reassured me. We ate dinner at the restaurant on top, which is incredibly expensive but hey, he's loaded—what does he care?

After going back down, I saw a carousel and forced him to ride on it with me. He seemed to be having fun, which I found sort of cute. I even managed to forget that he was a despicable pansy Frenchman whom I hated.

He then suggested we go on a boat tour of the river Seine. He really recommended it, he said, so I agreed. He let me have the window seat. I can't even begin to describe how stunning Paris is when it's lit up at night. The bridges have lights and they reflect on the water. They had headphones in which you could listen to different languages for information, but I didn't listen because hey were playing actual French music. This normally would have sucked but when surrounded by the magical lights and the river, it was, well, magical. I felt like I was in a movie.

Every twenty minutes or so I think, the Eiffel Tower would light up and flash almost like a disco ball. Very pretty. I smiled at Noel.

"It's so… kawaii." I sighed.

"I'm glad you like it, mademoiselle-chan."

I rested my head on his shoulder and listened to the beautiful music. He put his arm around me, and then the next thing I knew, we were kissing. Wow! I nearly lit up just like the Eiffel Tower! He was a really good kisser…

The kiss deepened, and I felt electricity surge through my veins at like, fifty thousand watts. I was surprised my hair didn't start to stand up on end. He pulled me into his arms and ran his hands through my perfect hair and touched my flawless skin. I gripped the fabric of his collar and wished fervently that we weren't in public so I could have begun to unbutton it. (A/N: OMG THIS IS SO HOT )

We were forced to break apart when the tour was over, and it was then that Victor seemed to realize what he'd done. He gasped, and got up without even waiting for me. I chased after him.

"What's wrong?"

"Maria is my girlfriend, Josephina-kun!"  
I sighed. "Well, DUH. As if it isn't obvious."

"She lived in the colony until now, she had to convince her father to let her come stay with me! You have to understand, I have no business kissing other onnas!"

I rolled my eyes. "You enjoyed it, admit it."

"That doesn't matter," he protested, "I cannot have such a relationship with you, mademoiselle-sensei!"

"That bitch doesn't love you," I told him. (A/N: THAT MARIA BITCH)

"I'm taking you back now." He said furiously, walking away. I had no choice but to follow.

One thing I'd learn about those Frenchies is they loved parties. Fiestas, as they'd call them. Only whereas in my proud nation of Neo America… er… Neo Uzbekistan, parties would consist of blasting loud music, getting drunk, and doing a wild table dance until you fall off and land on some guy you hardly know and make out with him, these parties were stiff, formal, and boring. The music sucked, too. It was bad enough that I had to go to a ballet in like four days…

"Hey Frenchie! Your music sucks!" I yelled. I was looking really hot, at least. I was in a short black skirt that conformed to my curvaceous figure, with a lacey black corset that was tied tight enough that it accentuated my full breasts. I had on fishnets and killer black boots with high heels pointy enough to kill a man. Underneath the outfit I had on black lingerie complete with a garter belt, and I was determined to show Isidore how much sexier than his prissy princess I was.

"It is Delibes," He told me, annoyed. "He was a world-famous composer who wrote many opera…."

"Opera, schmopera!" I went over and knocked out the pianist who was playing such terrible music. Fortunately, I'd been preparing for this. I'd brought along a stereo with a mix CD. Ooooh, this party was about to finally get fun!

I stood by piano as though I were one of those… singers… who sings by pianos… and waited for the music to start. By then, I had the attention of everyone in the room. Yes! I started to sing:

Baby, can't you see

I'm calling

A guy like you

Should wear a warning

It's dangerous

I'm fallin'

My hands went up to my hair, which was in a messy bun, and shook it out, letting it cascade around my shoulders. I cast a sultry look at the audience, and then winked as I continued:

There's no escape

I can't hide

I need a hit

Baby, give me it

You're dangerous

I'm lovin' it

I touched the laces of my corset, running my hands against my breasts, and then began to slowly undo them:

Too high

Can't come down

Losing my head

Spinning 'round and 'round

Do you feel me now

The corset fell to the floor, leaving me in a lacey black strapless bra. I ran my hands slowly up my body, running them through my hair, and then climbed up onto the piano.

With a taste of your lips

I'm on a ride

You're toxic

I'm slipping under

With a taste of poison paradise

I'm addicted to you

Don't you know that you're toxic

And I love what you do

Don't you know that you're toxic

I lay down on my back and raised my legs up into the air, running my hands up them slowly.

It's getting late

To give you up

I took a sip

From my devil cup

Slowly

It's taking over me

Too high

Can't come down

It's in the air

And it's all around

Can you feel me now

I slid off my skirt and tossed it into the crowd, revealing my matching black panties and garter belt. I rolled over onto my stomach, giving the audience a nice glimpse of my ample cleavage.

With a taste of your lips

I'm on a ride

You're toxic

I'm slipping under

With a taste of poison paradise

I'm addicted to you

Don't you know that you're toxic

And I love what you do

Don't you know that you're toxic

Don't you know that you're toxic

I rolled over onto my side, holding my head up with my elbow.

With a taste of your lips

I'm on a ride

You're toxic

I'm slipping under

With a taste of poison paradise

I'm addicted to you

Don't you know that you're toxic

Finally, I climbed back up into a sitting position.

Intoxicate me now

With your lovin' now

I think I'm ready now

I think I'm ready now

Intoxicate me now

With your lovin' now

I'm ready now

I finished the song and awaited my applause, but I didn't get any. People looked shocked and almost appalled. Can you imagine!?

George finally pulled me aside. "I can't believe you! That was not at all how a lady should be behave!" He yelled. "Mademoiselle, that was out of line!"

"You prissy Frenchmen!" I yelled back.

"George, give 'er a break, she was only trying to entertain, non?" Maria pleaded with him. He ignored her.

"Go get dressed," he told me, "and go to your room. I'll be up to scold you privately shortly."

"Fine, jerk!" I gathered up my clothes and left. Upstairs, I fretted over what outfit to wear so I would look hot for Corin while he yelled at me. I selected a halter top and a frilly skirt. I left my hair down though.

Finally, he arrived and locked the door. This confused me. Was he about to beat me or something? Or…

He pulled me into his arms. "Mademoiselle-chan, you have such passion.. I cannot describe it… but I must have you!" He kissed me hard, with a frantic energy, and his hands moving everywhere. I took his hand and led him towards the bed, and he laid me down on it. I let him touch me, let him pull off my clothes, and then melted into his embrace.

Take that, Princess Maria Louise.

The best part about sleeping with Gregoire was waking up in his arms. Well, okay, actually the sex itself was the best part but waking up next to him wasn't bad either. Especially because then he'd take me into his arms and we'd have another go… mmmm yeah!

For the next few days we sneaked all around his palace, doing it in any private room we saw—once under the table in the dining room, twice in the parlor, for example. Hahaha Maria Louise, looks like I'm the one he really wants, non? Probably because when you scream in bed it has this horrid French accent… but I digress.

But yeah, we were going at it like... two people who really wanted each other. Maria didn't seem to notice, dumb bitch. And I really was beginning to think that it was going far beyond just hot sex and getting back at my irrational hatred of Maria Louise…. I was beginning to fall in love with uh… what's his name, again… Oh yeah, George.

I should have known, though, that it was too good to last…

Author's Notes: OMG GEORGEY-KUN IS SOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO KAWAII ISN'T HE FROO FROO

FrooFroo the Muse: omg shut up no1 carez

Me: OMFG U SHUT UP YURUSIE

FrooFroo the Muse: ur bein redundant lol

Me: HEY I'M NOT THE ONE MAKIN UP WORDS HERE BAKA . 

Hehehehehe stayed tuned 4 moer! Review or ill sic chibby-chibodee-neko on u!

Chibodee-neko: rowr… josephina-san wa kawaii desu wa! =.=

Me: SHUT UP AND ATTACK THE HEATEHENS CHIBBY-CHAN

Chibodee-neko: nani?

Me: I GIUVE UP JUST REVIEW OK!??????

_Author's Note: My apologies for anyone who may have thrown up during that whole "performance" thing. Goodness knows I came close to it. I had to listen to the song too… ARGH!_

_And… a special thank you to my reviewers _


End file.
